


Something to Talk About

by bonded



Category: Original Work
Genre: Broken Families, Dubious Consent, Incest, Love Confessions, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonded/pseuds/bonded
Summary: On the way home from a party, Holden sort of shares his feelings with his older brother.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 16





	Something to Talk About

Holden was dead weight, but Noah held him against his side anyway, guiding him down the sidewalk as the two of them made their way back to their family's home. Holden was drunk to the point of wasted. He kept repeating his older brother's name, over and over: "Noah, Noah."

"What?" Noah asked him, not for the first time, after a few minutes of this.

"Stop." He said it so quietly Noah almost didn't hear him, but he did, so he stopped walking, giving Holden the opportunity to stumble to a squatting position, holding his stomach.

"Are you really gonna puke?"

"Fuck off." Holden closed his eyes, then reopened them when he immediately lost his balance and fell on his ass. "Ah, shit."

"Here." Noah held out his hand. Holden took it and allowed himself to be pulled up, only his legs buckled under him, and Noah had to catch him. "Listen, Holden, I'm gonna need you to try harder here. We still have to walk three more blocks. Are you listening to me?"

Holden had his head buried in Noah's chest. He nodded when questioned, the movement of which brought his hand back to his stomach.

"Come here." Noah pulled him by the hand away from the road and into the grassy area of the neighborhood playground across the street. It was barren, of course, since it was fucking two AM. Noah tugged Holden to sit with him in the grass at the base of a tree, on the side that was mostly hidden from the surrounding homes and apartment buildings.

"Noah."

"What? Hey, turn your head if you're gonna puke."

"I'm not g'na puke."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

They sat in the silence together. Noah didn't mind it. The night had been long already, and while he wasn't nearly as far gone as Holden was, he felt the pleasant dopiness that came with being just past tipsy. He wanted to say the night had gone well—but he had a feeling Holden had experienced it differently. He had one question egging at him the most. "Why'd you get so drunk, dude?"

Holden took so long to give any kind of answer that Noah thought he just hadn't heard him. Eventually Holden shrugged, and lowered his eyes. They were glassy, unable to focus on anything for long. He mumbled, "I just feel so bad."

Noah didn't ask why because he trusted Holden to know that he would want to know. And like he thought he would, Holden continued: "I like someone."

"Oh." Noah felt awkward, then, because while he and his brother were best friends—uncomfortably close, some have said—they had never discussed Holden's love life. It was like Holden had never been able to pass that sort of friendship barrier of being viewed as a peer rather than just his little brother. Plus, it didn't help that until right this moment, Holden had never shown an interest in anyone. At least, he never shared that information with Noah. "Did she reject you?" he asked clumsily.

Holden made a sound as though he were holding back a frustrated noise. "No."

Noah could feel his face start to flush. He didn't know why. "So she likes you back?"

"No," Holden repeated. "And, ummm." He looked away bashfully, his motions exaggerated by the booze. "He. Not—not she."

Now Noah's face really went pink. He averted his eyes away and up, trying to appear casually thoughtful rather than flustered. "Oh, uh… I never knew."

"Never told you, Noah."

"Why not?" Noah did feel hurt that he was just now learning this. How long had Holden known he was—gay? Is that why Noah hadn't heard about his love life? Was Holden having sex—if so, with who? Older college guys, like Noah? Or—or—strange men—?

Holden slapped his face lightly, snapping him out of it. "Look up buttercu-cup."

"Why didn't you tell me, dude?"

"I dunno. You'd hate me."

"I would never hate you. I love you." It came effortlessly to Noah, to tell Holden so.

Still, he watched Holden visibly blush beside him at the words, and turn away. "You'd think of me differently."

"Well yeah, now I have to think about you kissing guys. Or one guy, I guess, since you said you liked someone. So who is it? What's the problem?"

Cicadas chirped through the silence that stretched. When one boy met the other's eyes, neither looked away. "What's going on with you?" Noah questioned, searching in them for an answer.

Holden opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Instead, there was a glint of something—courage?—in his eyes, and he leaned in to press his mouth to his older brother's.

  
  


Noah thought of his mom. One night, when he was twelve and Holden was seven, only a few weeks after their dad had died, she had come to him. It was after bedtime, but he was twelve, so he'd been up on his console still, wide awake. She'd slipped into his room quietly, a drunken smile on her face. She was drunk most of the time, starting then. "Noah, my angel," she'd said. Her voice was mousy, soft, and slurring. "My baby. You're still awake."

During this time, things were very tense in the family. Everyone was heartbroken, especially his mom, which left Noah to be the sole carer for Holden as he watched his mother descend in her sanity. He was too scared of further hurting her to stand up to her—she was never violent or mean, anyways. She was only ever openly sobbing, or neutral, or really affectionate.

Noah was used to her being really affectionate after his dad’s death. She'd often kiss him lightly on the lips, or let her hands linger for too long, or repeat her pet names _angel_ and _baby_. But that night, she seemed different. She helped herself into bed with him, going so far as to lift the blankets and lie under them with him. Noah had set down his controller and asked, helplessly, afraid of her, "Mom?"

"I love you," she said. She sounded desolate. "You look just like him. I miss him. I know it's wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"Am I pretty?"

She looked at him expectantly. He floundered—he was twelve, and here was his mother, broken right in front of him. "Go to bed, mom."

"Don't turn me away." She kissed him, and if he didn't know she was drunk then, he knew now. She kissed him sloppily, open-mouthed, the way she shouldn't ever kiss her child. He didn't kiss her back, but he didn't pull away either, too scared to hurt her feelings, and of what the fallout of that might be.

She seemed to want to do more, she did so much as reach for his pants, but she was drunk enough that he could distract her with kissing until she fell asleep in his blanket. When she was gone, Noah got up carefully, not caring to tuck her in. In fact, he extracted his blanket from her, and took it with him out of the room.

That night he slept on the couch. Every night afterward, he made sure to lock his door, and didn't open it whenever she came to visit.

  
  


As Holden's lips touched his, he thought, _There's something wrong with us_. It's not just his mother; it was the whole family. Because the fact was: Noah had found kissing her unpleasant, but not disgusting for the reasons it should've been, and _this_ kiss with Holden felt like something else entirely. Their mouths came open against each other and when Noah felt his little brother's tongue against his, his dick twitched in his pants. He groaned, and Holden made a shameless sound and rose to straddle him on the grass.

"You're drunk," Noah said breathlessly. His heart was racing. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Even sober, it's you. It's you. It's you." Holden kissed him between the words. Noah kissed him back every time.

"But how long have you—?"

"Shh." Holden held a finger up to his mouth. "Ask me questions tom—tomorrow. Tonight, let's make each other come. Please?"

"Right here?" Noah looked around nervously, but the neighborhood was quiet, everyone's lights out. He didn't feel any eyes on him. "In the middle of the neighborhood?"

"Why not? We can just—" He grinded down, and then again when he could feel where exactly in his pants Noah's dick was. Noah shuddered. Holden busied himself with sucking at his jaw, and then his neck…

“Dude,” Noah whispered in disbelief, when Holden’s hand went to the button on his pants. He brought his hand to his brother’s to stop him wordlessly. “Holden…” He sighed. “You’re my little brother. If we do this—if I let you do this—“

“I want this. I want you.” Holden’s hand slipped into his underwear, wrapped itself around Noah’s member. Noah closed his eyes, bucking into him a little. "You want me too."

“Okay,” he said. “Alright. Then let’s do it.” He reached for Holden’s hair, and Holden reached right back. They pulled each other into a kiss that was passionate, and fueled by something fiery—for Holden, it had to be a years-long infatuation, but Noah wasn’t sure what _he_ was fueled by.

Before this, Noah had never thought of his little brother or any man in that way. All he knew was that it felt right to love Holden in return, and to feel like he could prove it physically. And he couldn’t deny that the naughtiness of their incest, how taboo it would be if it ever got out—it was hot.

His brother’s hand had pulled his dick free and stroked him. It was the hand he had played catch with as a child, had shared food with, had watched learn the guitar and the piano. Noah thought of every time Holden had held his hand for no reason, and realized that maybe there had been a reason after all.

For a second he felt sick. Was this his fault? Had he done this? They were five years apart, Holden was barely out of high school—was it possible that Noah had—had groomed him? If so, it wasn’t intentional.

It was hard to think of himself as the bad guy here when Holden was doing all the work to get him there. He pumped with his fist, with purpose, until Noah’s breathing stuttered below him. Holden had been staring at his dick the whole time as though he were thinking of something. “What if I blew you?” he asked. He was still so obviously drunk, with his flushed face and unsteady gaze. God, what if he didn’t remember this tomorrow? Should Noah tell him to stop?

“I’d come,” he said honestly. He was close already. “Suck my dick, Holden. Please.”

“Mmmm.” Holden slinked his way into position so that his ass was in the air, his head between Noah’s thighs. “I used to dream of this every night back in middle school,” he said lightly. “Sucking my older brother’s fat cock. I love it. I love you.”

When Holden said it, it meant something different. Something more wrong. Noah felt guilty; Holden was _in love_ with him. And he had been since middle school? Exactly how long had he felt incestuous like this? This was a new feeling for Noah—it was bizarre for him to have his brother so close. Seeing him like this, touching him. Seeing the face he’d watched grow up licking up his shaft in the neighborhood park, lit up only by the glow of streetlights and the moon.

Holden got to work, kissing and suckling before taking him all in, choking on his brother’s member. It wasn’t long before the sight brought Noah to the brink, and he came with no warning but for his stifled moans. Holden stayed latched to his dick the whole time, drawing out every last drop of his orgasm with his throat. “You like that, baby?” Noah asked him.

“Yes, daddy.” Holden's mouth was full of cum. He swallowed it.

The word made Noah feel weird. But not bad. He thought of his mom’s words: _You look just like him._

“Kiss me, Noah.”

Noah pulled him up so they could kiss. They were fully horizontal on the grass now, not against the tree anymore. “We have to get you home,” he said.

“I don’t want to face mom.”

Neither did Noah. She hadn’t kissed him since that night when he was twelve, but she’d tried to, and more. He wondered if she would feel hurt if she learned about her sons, or if she would understand, considering. “We won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Now you promise me you’ll remember tonight in the morning.”

Holden nodded cheerfully. “F’sure.”

“Don’t hate me for taking advantage of you.”

“Oh, please.” He splayed out and closed his eyes, ignoring Noah’s blatant attempts to keep them moving. “Take advantage of me all you want. Touch me—fuck me while I’m sleeping. I don't care.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

“I’m jus’sayin.” He reached into his pants and pulled his dick out. It was only half hard, suffering from whiskey dick, but he was stroking it.

Noah felt conflicted. He didn’t think he was ready to suck off his little brother. That seemed too extreme to him. But was it rude to not return the favor?

“Do you need help?” he offered, wishing for a no.

“No,” Holden replied, like an angel. He made the effort to rise, finally, stroking himself all the while. Noah rose with him. “I got me. Let’s go home.”

He came when they were at the footsteps of the house, right onto the wooden porch. He stopped walking as his hips stuttered, letting it out. Noah held him through it.

"We're going to talk about this," he said, later, when Holden had snuck from his own bedroom and into Noah's, and climbed into his bed.

"Okay," Holden replied. "I love you."

Noah couldn't help glancing towards the lock on his door. It was unlocked.

His voice seemed louder than it should've been in the dark. "I love you, too."


End file.
